Red, White & Royal Blue

by Casey McQuiston

“Have you met Henry?” Alex says. “How am I supposed to do that? He has the personality of a cabbage.”

“Excuse you!” Beth the nurse tuts. “That’s no way to address the prince. Terribly sorry, Your Highness.” “No need to apologize,” Henry tells her. “Rebel commanders outrank royalty.” He shoots Claudette a wink and a salute, and she positively melts.

They’re rounding the corner for their eighth lap now, and he’s starting to see some flaws in his logic. Straight people, he thinks, probably don’t spend this much time convincing themselves they’re straight.

“Oi,” Henry says. He’s grinning now. “That’s disrespect of the crown, that is. Insubordination. I’ve thrown men in the dungeons for less.” Alex turns, walking backward toward the car, hands in the air. “Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Alex winces. “Please don’t tell Mom.” “Seriously?” she hisses. “You’re literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state, who is a man, at the biggest political event before the election, in a hotel full of reporters, in a city full of cameras, in a race close enough to fucking hinge on some bullshit like this, like a manifestation of my fucking stress dreams, and you’re asking me not to tell the president about it?”

“Well,” Queen Mary says. “I suppose. I suppose you don’t leave me much choice, do you?” “Oh, you have a choice, Mum,” Catherine says. “You’ve always had a choice. Perhaps today you’ll make the right one.”